The Turkish Carpets are Not a Threat
by ayashina
Summary: Alternately titled "Things Charles did involving Erik in the vicinity of antiques that his mother would have hypothetically grounded him for."   First Class, Erik/Charles


Charles Xavier never realized how many things in his house contained metal until he started sleeping with Erik. There had been a few _incidents _with warped belt buckles and distorted bathtub feet and whatever change Charles happened to be carrying in his pockets at the time, but there were a few moments Charles has made a point of remembering, and bringing up if he ever has the desire to tease Erik.

First, there was the armoire in the study.

Charles was glad his mother wasn't around to discover that all of the individually forged rose-head nails in her beloved three section rococo armoire, circa 1853, had gotten themselves lodged into various sections of the wall, not to mention discover what particular brand of debauchery Charles had decided to be the day's choice.

Charles had been a bit peeved when one of said nails almost lodged itself in his frontal lobe, but he'd gotten a kick out of Erik's expression when the armoire collapsed seemingly entirely on it's own. He'd always found it to be a tad too gaudy for his liking, but was worth trying to watch Erik explain to the repairman _how _such a thing had happened. The young professor was sure to Erik indulged him by giving him _exactly _how much credit his talented tongue deserved, far, _far _away from the unfortunate wardrobe, whose handles would never quite look the same.

Then, there was the incident with the candlesticks in the library.

Charles had thought he was being careful. The bookshelves were held together with wooden pegs(courtesy of a rather fine french carpenter in the 1700s), the ostentatious Turkish rugs were hardly a threat, and the writing desk and base of the divan were solid oak. There appeared to be no threat whatsoever. At least, that's what Charles thought when he turned Erik around and laid one on him that would've gotten him grounded for at least a week if his mother had been there to see it (That is, hypothetically, if she hadn't already witnessed what the pair had been getting up to in the study when the armoire fell apart and grounded Charles for life.).

The kiss is demanding. Charles is frustrated with having to sneak around the manor looking for metal-free locations to commit immoral acts, and the library seems _perfect. _Erik agrees, hoisting the shorter man up onto the writing desk, and isn't _that _just the most _interesting _angle. Charles tries to make a mental note to remember it for later, but it's hard to do anything of the thinking-sort when Erik is doing just the _most evil _things to one's neck that will _definitely _be leaving bruises, which wouldn't _really _be a problem if Charles felt that he could pull of turtlenecks as well as his partner, who managed to make them seem _downright _sexy, and Charles must be projecting his thoughts again because he can feel Erik smirking against his jugular. Charles tries to sit up and project some of his less _innocent _thoughts in Erik's direction, but aforementioned _particular _angle has given Charles a rather _particular _view of the room, and he notices a set of 1940s John & Priscilla sterling silver candelabras he overlooked in his original sweep of the library.

"Erik!"

Unfortunately for the pair, Charles' gives his warning approximately 2.4 milliseconds after he cants his hips against Erik's, and he watches helplessly over Erik's shoulder as the least hideous wedding gifts of his mother's first marriage let out an extremely uncharacteristic shudder for such _inanimate _objects, before folding in on themselves entirely. Granted, Erik did manage to fix them (although it left a bit of a tilt in the base of one of the candle holders, but Charles found it rather charming and later set them on the dining table as a token of the memory.), and they were hastily set outside the door of the library so Erik and Charles could continue with their "chess game" in the now metal-free (and soon to be a regular location for such "chess games") parlour.

Charles would like to think his mother wouldn't have grounded him beyond the grave from, well, _beyond the grave, _had she found a few of her most prized antiques destroyed (including the pug-shaped silver doorstop, although Erik agreed the vile thing had it coming.) and shortly remade with quirks only Charles and Erik knew the exact reasons behind.

But despite Erik's embarrassment, Charles found the whole thing quite romantic, in a bit of a wicked way.


End file.
